I'm just a teenage dirt bag, baby
by l-apathie
Summary: That one au where the boys are human, reckless and hopelessly in-love. Marshall is nothing but a reckless and inconsiderate jerk but Barnaby, prim and proper, finds himself falling in love yet again as he calls upon his memories.
1. An introduction

Marshall was lying on the couch. His inky hair was a mess, falling over his face and eyes and sticking up both this way and that. His eyes were shut, and he held a cigarette in his hands lazily, which was ironic as he was wearing a _no smokin_g tank under his army utility shirt. His feet were propped up on the couch, clad in military boots over tight and dark denim. He looked disgruntled and dismal, though most would blame that on the youth's addiction to sex and chaos. However, it was not the sex he had just shared with his boyfriend in the stranger's closet, nor was it the mess of his life giving him this look. It was the previous yelling that had taken place only moments ago. His lover had yelled at him, he was distraught and screamed and cried at Marshall. And then he left. But could Marshall really blame him? Wasn't Marshall so inconsiderate of the other's feelings, and insensitive to the recent events? He sighed, letting the smoke leave his mouth. So what if he didn't understand the aspects of emotion? Did that really matter in the long run? The party around him kept going, and his mind kept spinning. Barnaby had left. The raven-haired male just hoped it wasn't for good.

Meanwhile, Barnaby is sitting on the steps to the old house, where his lover was only a few long strides away from him. He runs a shaky hand through his dyed-pink hair before the barely-adult male stands and paces the steps. He smooths his maroon blazer and hastily fixes the striped and deep pink shirt underneath. He supposed he looked queer, decked in his all red, violet and pink clothing, but the young male didn't care. He had accepted that he was a flaming homosexual years ago. He sighs deeply, running his hand over the various hickies on his neck stud. On experiencing the slight tinge of pain, his already rosy cheeks go redder and he pulls the ends of his pastel hair down in hopes of covering the violet splotches. Marshall Lee gave him love bites in the most **obvious **and** indecent** places. Honestly, who did he think he was? Certainly not the ruler of Barnaby B. Williams, that was for sure. God, he was **_so_** impossible. The youth's head was full of the delinquent in a matter of minutes, and he collapsed back onto the steps, sobbing. The disobedient miscreant had fought his way into his heart, and now he was stuck wallowing in the poison that was Marshall Lee Evans.


	2. A First

The young boys were poisonous to each other, this much was clear. Both Marshall and Barnaby were aware of the risks, yet neither seemed to care. They had accepted each other's flaws and problems, and they had explored each other's attributes and histories in a matter of months. The boys were nearly strangers, yet they had known each other for years and years. Barnaby could never shake the feeling of loneliness whenever he was separated from Marshall. This was no exception. He sat on the cold stone steps with tears streaming down his face in a state of remembrance. He remembered his first day of high school, where he had first encountered the reckless teen. Marshall was a senior then, and Barnaby was intimidated by every aspect of Marshall, who had worn nothing but dark colors and a devious smirk on his face. Barnaby stayed away from him until his freshman year of college, in which he was forced to be Marshall's room-mate. Marshall had taken years off to travel and tour before deciding to be a music major. He was still reckless as ever, but Barnaby grew close to the 22-year-old in a matter of weeks. He learned of his insecurities and past through the music and words that drifted through the thin apartment walls. It was Marshall who had teased him for his orange hair, and it was Marshall who had told him to live not only a little, but live a lot. Marshall taught him how to be his own person. He owed everything to Marshall, everything from his pink hair to the memories in his head.

Barnaby found himself attracted to his elder, and Marshall returned the feeling. The first time they had kissed it had been after one of Marshall's gigs. The night before Marshall had given him once of his shirts with the words 'try not to look too lame when you hit the bars, kid.' Barnaby had kept this in mind when he was getting ready for the gig. He felt absolutely weightless as he swayed with the crowd and seemed to forget that he had broken the law to watch his room-mate perform and that he shouldn't be sipping on the alcohol in his hands. He thought that maybe this is what Marshall had meant when he told him to live a lot. Barnaby was living in a haze produced by the mixing of alcohol and adrenaline but he didn't mind. And when Marshall had sought him out and dragged him backstage, he still didn't mind. And when something buried under Barnaby's haze told him that when Marshall pulled him close under the stage lights that he _should _mind, he merely laughed it off because he _didn't _mind. And as that voice screamed at him through his foggy thoughts Marshall was licking his lips and wearing his devilish smirk, but Barnaby didn't mind. For him, this was paradise, he was living and not even his rationality was going to stop him. No sir, he would live not only a little, but _a lot. _The two boys were already so close, and by the time the thought of kissing Barnaby had even crossed Marshall's mind, Barnaby had found his lips pressed to Marshall's, and he found joy when Marshall melted into it. And then Barnaby tasted metal on lips and realized that Marshall's tongue was lost in his mouth and he didn't mind. The thought of paradise crossed Barnaby's mind once again as he broke away.

Looking back, he wouldn't have changed a thing.


	3. A second

A feeling of familiarity over came Marshall. His thoughts mirrored his memories in a matter of moments as he slipped into a state of remembrance. It was their first date that was the beginning of their story. It marked the night where Barnaby truly started to trust Marshall and.. let him in.

_Marshall had kissed Barnaby hundreds of times by now. They had 'hung out' but this was different. This was a __**date.**__ That made Marshall nervous. Romance wasn't really his thing. He was into the romantic nights out and flowers and chocolate and all of the other clichés. He was the arrogant 'bad boy', and that had always worked for him. But Barnaby was.. different. He was special to Marshall, and Marshall accepted that he had genuine feelings for the kid. Barnaby wasn't some toy to get his dick wet with, and so he couldn't just screw around. The younger male was already out of his league, and Marshall really didn't want to risk a bad first date. Commitment was scary, and Ashlyn had really fucked with his head. But Marshall really didn't want to risk getting hurt again, especially by his own screw-ups._

Barnaby was all prim and proper as usual. He really was the only boy who could pull of the pink shirt and not look like a complete homo. His hair was pushed up and out of his face and it had a slight wave to it, and his brown eyes were hidden under circular frames. That bothered Marshall, the kid had contacts for a reason. He figured Barnaby had just come from one of his student council meetings or debate practices or open houses. Either way, he understood Barnaby was the best of them all, and because of this, he always had to look the part. "Hey dork, you're late."  
_His words gave Marshall a satisfying and amusing reaction.  
"Marshall, do not be so insulting!" Barnaby's voice was that of a mother lecturing her child. This made Marshall laugh. "..Try-outs ran a bit late. I am truly sorry.."  
So it was debate. What a nerd.  
"..And I've so much work for political philosophy and psych.."  
Marshall had quit paying attention to Barnaby's rambling quite a while ago. He was focused on those lips. What could they do..?  
"Honestly, Marshall, are you even listening?" The younger male pouted when he received a no.  
"Your face 'll get stuck like that." Barnaby groaned and pushed Marshall playfully before kissing him lightly.  
"Listen, kid. It's pretty shitty out. I was planning on taking you out, but I figure we'll have more fun here anyways. Especially since you're oh so exhausted and overworked."  
"It is impolite to mock people, Mar..But that sounds nice."_

Marshall found himself pleased with the nights events as he laid with Barnaby. The kid had been impressed in more ways than one, and Marshall found that he enjoyed corrupting the oh-so innocent Barnaby.


End file.
